


Break In

by NurseDarry



Series: Perfectly Reckless [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cockblocking yeoman, Khan's hair is ahdkdhjk, M/M, Masturbation, Mostly fades to black...this time, Oral Sex, Sex, a bit OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting-together fic; they literally fall for each other. Nothing to see here, move along. Do not disturb. No, really, stop knocking on the damned door and go away. Could be a prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1062231">What the Tribble Saw</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ithiel_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiel_Dragon/gifts).



> This is a bit disjointed and Jim goes from WTF to OMG way too fast, but it’s done and I’ll pick at it later. As ever, I couldn’t do this without my I’m-never-gonna-get-past-the-Next-Gen beta, Delphipsmith. 
> 
> Okay, yeah, so I may have a slight _thing_ for Khan’s hair, it gets mentioned a lot in this story. Also, I totally stole a line from Ithiel_dragon, cause she’s awesome and writes her John H as my John H. 
> 
> The title of this fic is taken from the [song of the same name](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfFOzQVKuMs) by Halestorm. Many thanks to lokis-angel-writer for directing me to it. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful and so very fitting during the film and beyond, considering the message is and will be – if we follow AOS canon – forever relevant.

The trials, the evidence, the debt, and the grief lay behind them; what remained was suspicion and grudging respect. What lay ahead was five years of the unknown, and the need for any resource the _Enterprise_ could get its hands on. Jim was sure the sorrow would never go away, but it diminished over time. He wore it on his sleeve now only when he needed reminding of how he’d come so far so fast, that ounce of humility.

As the months passed, Jim learned to work with their strange passenger again, remembering that they had, when necessary, made a competent team. The mistrust never fully disappeared – losing that would have been foolhardy – but the reluctant admiration that had been there from the start continued to grow. 

Jim doubted he’d ever call Khan _friend_ , but he no longer considered him an enemy.

~

Spock’s hands twitched infinitesimally; he was not a happy Vulcan, though probably no one but Jim would have noticed. “Please observe proper laboratory protocols,” Spock instructed Khan as he pointed to the gloves lying on the console. 

“I will not be injured,” Khan assured him in the usual snide tone he adopted when reminding them of his superior tolerance to pain and discomfort. Even Spock could not withstand as much.

However, it had taken a month’s work here in the Engineering lab to make the fragile thing, so naturally Spock was cautious about its handling. “That being said, I remind you that Regulation –”

Before he could finish quoting the rules Khan calmly reached inside the freezing container and retrieved the cryo-element on which they had been running tests. He carefully placed it into the delicate processor Spock and Scotty had created for it. 

Spock’s mouth snapped shut. 

Jim slapped his first officer on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Spock, I’m sure there’s plenty of people on this ship who actually follow regulations.” He smiled cheekily, common knowledge being he wasn’t one of them. Jim suspected Khan did this sort of thing just to get a rise out of Spock. Jim couldn’t blame him.

Suddenly the ship lurched sharply. The crew braced themselves against the nearest surface. Spock, his Vulcan reflexes kicking in, rescued the processor from the console before it tumbled off. 

“What the-?” Scotty shouted and turned around to face the Engine Room proper. They’d been travelling at impulse speed, so they’d either hit something, or the impulse engines were acting up.

“Boss, get in here!” a voice shouted from behind them.

Scotty spun around to face Jim. “Captain, I dinna…”

The engines groaned around them. 

“Go on, _Boss_ ,” Jim said to his chief engineer. “Go sort it out. We just got this girl working again, I’m not putting back into port ten minutes after we left.”

Spock frowned. “Captain, we have been in space for twelve point two-five standard weeks, not ten minutes.”

Jim sighed and watched Scotty’s retreating back. “I’ll be on the bridge,” he said and turned towards the turbolift. Before he'd taken two steps, the ship lurched again, this time much more powerfully. Everyone and everything that wasn’t nailed down fell over. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Spock, braced against a bulkhead, once again rescue the flying processor. Then everything went grey as 80 kilos of Khan slammed into him. 

“OOOF! UH!!” Jim’s lungs painfully deflated as the breath was knocked out of him. All around, the sound of multiple alarms and klaxons filled the air.

“Captain,” he heard Spock ask, “Are you unharmed?” Jim blinked as his surroundings swam back into focus. He looked up and found Spock still gingerly holding the processor whilst simultaneously twisting around in an attempt to check on his commanding officer.

Dazed, Jim lay motionless underneath Khan. “I’m fine, Spock, don’t break that thing,” he squeaked, his chest aching.

“Be still,” Khan growled as Jim tried to struggle out from under him. “You may be injured.”

“I’m fine,” Jim assured him. He weakly wriggled his legs, testing their movement.

“I said don't move.” Around them the sirens continued and the sound of running feet and shouts from different parts of Engineering added to the confusion. 

“Wha – what are you doing?” 

Khan remained sprawled across him, and Jim felt a hand, palm open, run slowly up and down his thigh.

“Making sure nothing’s broken.” 

Jim looked at Khan askance, but the man’s attention wasn't on his face. “Nothing’s broken,” he declared. His legs felt fine. In fact, they felt more than fine. With Khan lying on top of him and his hands running over Jim’s body, he felt very fine.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Khan’s hands continued to roam. 

Even if he were concerned for Jim’s welfare, he’d still not moved off of him, which Jim thought very odd. His brain wasn’t the only part of him with thoughts on the subject; it’d been too long since anyone had lain on top of him. Indeed, he really ought to get off the ground and get out of there. _Now_.

“Spock?” Jim called. There was no answer. He craned his neck to look behind him where the first officer had been standing moments before making a grab for the precious processor.

“Gone to the science lab to stow the device.” Jim had no idea how Khan knew this, but it sounded…logical. “Hold still.”

Easier said than done, with those hands...still moving... “Get off me,” Jim ordered, but it came out sounding more like a question. 

Khan shifted his position slightly, as if making _himself_ more comfortable. Both his hands were now stroking Jim’s arms, chest, shoulders. Any minute now Khan was going to encounter a part of Jim that was working too well, thank you very much.

“What’s the matter, Captain?” Khan said, smirking. The bastard; he knew what effect his touch was having. “Don’t you trust yourself?” Nimble fingers slipped between Jim's shirt and the bare skin at his waist. 

Jim struggled to get up, half-angry, half-panicked, but achieved very little other than becoming even more excited. He reached out a hand and shoved at Khan’s chest, grabbing a fistful of the black fabric of Khan’s shirt, feeling beneath it muscle as tense as steel and as immobile as marble. 

_Fine,_ Jim thought. _Two can play at that game._ He relaxed, then flattened his hand against Khan’s chest and let it travel up to his shoulder. When he got there, he squeezed slowly, almost a massage. He fixed his eyes squarely on Khan's, whose smirk faltered just a little. It faltered even more when Jim snaked his other arm around Khan’s waist.

Abruptly. Jim bent one knee and shoved his foot against the floor, using the movement to push Khan off him and roll to his feet. Khan recovered quickly and stood up just as Scotty shouted in their direction. 

“It’s impulse four, Cap’n. Hit by somethin’. Are you all right?” 

Jim could only imagine what he must look like, face flushed and uniform askew. His trousers were uncomfortably tight, and he hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. He stole a glance at Khan, who was smoothing his disarrayed hair back into place, but looked as smug and calm as ever. 

“I’m fine, Scotty. Can you fix it?” Jim asked, eyes back on his crewman. 

“Aye, but we have tae make sure there’s no damage. And we need t’find out wha’ we ran intae. Our sensors should have alerted us tae somethin’ long before we go’ near it.” 

“All right, Scotty. You tackle the first issue, I’ll go up to the bridge and find an answer to the second.” Jim inclined his head towards Khan. “Keep him here, he might be able to help.” Scotty would value any input and help he could get, and Khan knew starship design almost as well as the Chief Engineer. Besides, the more distance between himself and Khan at the moment the better.

“Aye, aye,” Scotty said. 

Khan had already turned away when Jim glanced back one last time before leaving Engineering. Once inside the turbolift, he scowled, barely noticing the two crewmen who greeted him and asked his destination. 

~

The proximity sensors, having been recalibrated, were now working properly, although Chekov was hard at work writing a new algorithm for them just in case. The hull and impulse engine number four had been inspected: there were bumps and bruises on both, but no dents so big that they couldn’t be hammered out. 

At the end of the shift, Jim went to his quarters and jumped straight into the shower. It might be only a sonic shower, but it was better than nothing. He re-tuned its settings and along with the cleansing sound waves, cold air blew across his skin.

But it wasn’t enough. By the time he fell into bed he was still replaying the day’s events in his head, and he was hard as a rock. Giving up on trying to ignore his body’s betrayal, he grasped himself under the ship-issue sleep pants and thought very hard about a sexual encounter – _any_ sexual encounter – he’d had on Earth. It was pleasurable, but wasn’t enough to keep him from thinking about Khan.

Clearly, Khan hadn’t been concerned for Jim’s health. But it had been a clumsy way of making a pass, if in fact that’s what it had been, and Khan wasn't usually clumsy at anything. _I’d never have done something like that_ , Jim thought. _You_ have _done that, idiot,_ an inner voice retorted. _Remember, with that lovely guy from – Neural, was it?_ They'd met at the Academy mixer in his second year. What was his name? Tyree? Jim had seen him at the bar and had volunteered to refresh his friends’ drinks. Once there, he pretended to have been jostled by another patron, falling right into Tyree’s arms. 

Jim squeezed his eyes closed, recalling Tyree’s strong features and white-blonde hair, his well-muscled arms…how defined they’d looked. Like Khan’s did through the fabric of his shirt.

_Wait, what?_

Those arms _had_ looked nice roaming over Jim’s body. The hands had felt very nice too. How long had it been? Too long. Jim’s hand sped up. He forced his mind back to the bar and Tyree. What was Tyree doing now, Jim wondered. He vaguely remembered some mention of an arranged marriage… No, best not to think about that. 

Think about…what might Khan be doing now? He’d be back in his cell, the lights in the brig dimmed to simulate night as the gamma shift crewmen went patiently about their business. Would Khan also be lying in his bunk, re-living today’s events in his head, touching himself as he thought about Jim?

Warm wetness spilled across Jim’s abdomen. Reeling back into the real world, he uttered an irritated “Dammit,” and reached for his discarded tunic. 

~

_“Scott to McCoy. Doctor, are ye there? Doctor?”_

Scotty’s tone sounded rushed, and more than a little irritated. McCoy looked up from the experiment he was running on the workbench and impatiently pushed the comm next to him. 

"What is it, Scotty?" he said crossly. "I can't do a cardiac replacement on your engines, if that's what you're after. I'm a doctor, not a mechanic."

Jim smothered a grin; he knew how much Bones didn’t like to be interrupted when working, which was why Jim – and even Khan, who was indirectly the subject of yet another experiment – were keeping out of McCoy’s way. Jim had popped into Medbay for Bones’ company and was now just loitering, partly because he was interested in the experiment McCoy was running and partly because Khan was there. He’d originally planned to go over planetary survey specs with Chekov, but after what had happened the day before in Engineering, Jim wanted to see if he’d misinterpreted things or if the whole “episode” had been a combination of hormone overload and wishful thinking.

"All right, I'll be there in five minutes. McCoy out." McCoy abruptly stood up from the workbench and began gathering things from the room.

“What is it, Bones?” Jim asked, realising that his thoughts had been so fixed on Khan he’d not heard any of the conversation between Scotty and McCoy.

“Keenser fell off something again.” He picked up his bag and addressed Khan. “Can you finish this? The cells need washing and prepping and you might want to separate a few and make up some new slides.” He turned to face Jim and inclined his head in Khan’s direction. “Stay out of his way.” He gave neither man time to answer before stalking out.

~ 

Jim lasted two minutes before breaking the uncomfortable silence McCoy had left them in. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” replied Khan. He had taken over McCoy’s seat at the workbench and did not look up. 

Okay, so maybe questioning the man's abilities hadn’t been the best way to start a conversation. Apparently Khan had little desire to acknowledge Jim's presence, let alone the events in Engineering.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to –”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“But –”

Jim didn’t think he’d ever heard the augmented human sigh before -- his phenomenal self-control seemed to repress even such small signs of annoyance -- but now Khan raised his head from his experiment, took a fortifying breath and let it out slowly. As he did so, several wayward strands of his hair fell into his eyes. Jim’s attention shifted to them, then back to Khan’s shoulders as he once again leaned over the bench, re-focussing on the petri dish.

“I just thought I might be able to help.” After all, short of guarding Khan (a task which, admittedly, Jim could have assigned to someone else) there was very little reason for him to remain in Medbay.

“Are you trying to irritate me, Kirk?” Khan’s voice rumbled through the room. 

“No.” All innocence. Jim was good at that.

“You’re not looking for a fight?” Khan asked. 

Feigned innocence had its limits. “No!”

“Because you would lose.”

Behind him, Jim made a face. Of course Khan was right. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Khan’s tone had changed subtly; he was teasing now.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Jim lied. 

Khan lifted his head and looked at him but said nothing. Jim suspected he might be silently counting to ten. 

“Kirk, this experiment would be finished much sooner if you weren’t hovering.”

“I’m not hovering,” Jim argued. “I’m…supervising.”

Okay, he was hovering. Didn’t he have a right to make Khan uncomfortable? After all, Khan had certainly done it to him. The constant one-upmanship Jim always sensed when dealing with Khan now vied with his desire to find a way to get close to him. What was it about Khan that made Jim want to sink his hands into that luxurious hair and punch the guy’s lights out at the same time? 

Jim slowly released the breath he’d been holding, and the puff of air ruffled Khan’s hair slightly. He hadn’t done it intentionally, but the result was satisfying nonetheless. 

Khan didn’t turn around, just said, “You know, you don’t have to start a fight just because you want to touch me… _Captain_.” He pronounced the final word with his usual disdain, but it rang hollow when paired with the rest of the comment.

Jim’s brows shot into his hairline. He held up both hands in a feigned I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about manner and started to back away from Khan, but he wasn’t fast enough. Khan swivelled his stool around, reached out a long leg to catch Jim’s knees, and pulled him in between powerful thighs. Jim overbalanced and fell forwards and Khan caught his wrists, Jim’s hands still raised as if in surrender. Jim yanked both arms and legs backwards, but he was held fast and couldn’t get away. He felt his heart start to race in a fight-or-flight reaction.

He struggled for a moment, Khan looking directly and disconcertingly into his eyes. After an adequately awkward amount of time, Khan loosened his grip on Jim’s wrists but didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled Jim’s hands forward, placed them on his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist. Jim, still trapped at the knees, let his mouth fall open in protest as Khan buried his face in his chest. 

Jim made an inarticulate sound. He told himself it was a groan of surprise.

“Nothing to say, _Captain_?” Again with the attitude, but Jim could feel Khan smiling against him. “At last.”

Jim barked out a laugh despite himself, and relaxed, just a little.

The arms around his waist tightened and strong, long-fingered hands spread themselves across his back. Jim trembled as both heat and ice competed for possession of his skin: his face felt flushed, but shivers travelled at warp speed down his spine.

Realising his hands were free, Jim was suddenly at a loss with what to do with them. 

_Hair, hair, hair_ , suggested that helpful inner voice. Muttering “Fuck it,” he buried his hands in Khan’s hair, tangling his fingers in it. The texture was much softer and finer than he’d expected and Jim was rapidly losing track of time, of everything, including his self-control. Well, self-control was overrated anyway. And Khan probably had enough for the both of them.

Or maybe not. He felt Khan’s hands clutch ever-harder at his back, pressing the two of them closer, a deep rumbling sigh vibrating across Jim’s chest. Jim had to work to remember to breathe. 

Tightening his fingers in Khan’s hair, Jim closed his eyes…

“…to fix that blasted turbolift.” Jim's eyes popped open as McCoy stomped back into Medbay. “I swear it moves slower during gamma shift…” 

Jim jerked himself free of Khan’s embrace, sincerely hoping Bones was too engrossed in his annoyance to see him. As he did, he banged his hip against the workbench and winced. 

McCoy noticed him rubbing his leg and his eyes narrowed as he turned to Khan, who was pushing his hair out of his face. For the first time since meeting the man, Jim saw a flush -- of embarrassment? or excitement? -- across Khan’s cheeks. 

He wasn’t the only one. Bones looked back at Jim and scowled. “Dammit, I thought I might be able to leave you two alone in the same room for five minutes without you hurting each other. Or yourselves.” 

“How’s Keenser, Bones?” Jim asked too loudly. He backed up and nervously pulled at his tunic, straightening it and brushing off a stray dark hair that clung to it. Beside him, Khan’s head was once again bowed over the petri dish, his back straight, those amazing hands again gripping the delicate medical instruments, albeit maybe a little tighter than before if the whitening of his knuckles was anything to go by. It was the only thing Jim could see in the man that betrayed any change in his usual professional demeanour.

“Fine, no thanks to anyone in Engineering. I’ve told Scotty to keep an eye on him. What’s the matter with _you_?” Bones squinted at Jim, who looked away. “Please tell me you weren’t trying to have a battle of wills with him.” Bones jerked his head in Khan’s direction. 

“Of course not,” Jim said indignantly. 

“Good,” Bones said, walking over to the near wall to stow his medkit. “’Cause you’d lose.” 

Jim didn’t need to see Khan’s face to know what expression it wore.

“Okay, I’ll take over,” Bones said to Khan. “But stay here; I may need some more samples.” Khan stood and moved away to make room for McCoy at the bench. Jim idly picked up Bones’ augmented tribble in order to have something to do and ran a finger through the tribble’s fur. Although soft, it wasn’t a very good substitute for Khan’s hair. 

McCoy, distracted by his loitering, took the tribble away from him. “Jim, you don’t have to stay.” 

“Oh,” Jim said, glancing at Khan, who stood expressionless on the other side of the doctor. “I’ll be going then.” It wasn't likely Khan would acknowledge their encounter, not with McCoy sitting there. Even as Jim glanced at him, Khan moved to sit near the door, waiting until McCoy needed more blood or tissue samples. 

Just before Jim left Medbay, though, Khan looked up and Jim thought, just maybe, that he’d nodded ever so slightly. 

By the time he reached the bridge, Jim was sure of it. 

~

Jim Kirk usually loved a challenge. No one knew this better than his friends, but it was those same friends who were now worried about him. Or so it seemed to Jim, since at every turn he was being asked about his health, his mood, even his diet.

This... _thing_...with Khan wasn’t so much a challenge, he had to admit, as a cause of unsocial brooding and self-destructive behaviour. For the next three weeks after the encounter in Medbay, Jim had been willing to carry it on as they had begun, looking for reasons to be in the same place as Khan, wanting Scotty or Bones to utilise him in any capacity, but the opportunities just didn’t seem to present themselves as they had before. 

Then for a month, Jim was kept busy with the outbreak of war on a planet they’d been surveying, and he’d been injured – nothing major, but Bones kept him confined to light duty for several days. Jim had argued that maybe he’d be better off in Medbay, but McCoy had replied he was too busy with the other landing party casualties on top of his ongoing experiments, and didn’t need Jim’s rather overbearing company there on top of everything else. 

So, Jim had duly stayed away and taken things easy, aware that even though he might not be under McCoy’s direct supervision twenty-four/seven, his activities would be reported back to the doctor, either by Spock, Scotty, or his damnably efficient yeoman. Which also, rather inconveniently, ruled out skulking around the science lab or Engineering whenever Khan might be there. 

The following week, Jim wandered into Medbay on three separate occasions (prepared, of course, with a legitimate reason for his visit). Each time, Khan hadn’t been there. So Jim found himself visiting the brig, making up excuses for talking to him. There’d been intense stares, brusque and efficient conversation, and a huge amount of sexual frustration (at least on Jim’s part). Khan was typically snide and mostly uncooperative, and Jim was pretty sure he was being that way intentionally. But there were still smouldering looks which couldn’t be ignored.

After a week of this, though, the man's attitude changed. Each time Jim tried to discuss anything with his _captive_ , Khan was very nearly hostile. Jim stayed in the brig for no more than a few minutes, getting more irritated with each visit. He was also confused as hell, and if there was one thing Jim Kirk didn’t do well it was irritated and confused. 

This was getting ridiculous, he was the captain! And even without the title, he’d never had this much trouble getting next to anyone at the Academy -- or anywhere else, for that matter. Still, after giving Bones his word that he wouldn’t get involved with anyone on board because of the inevitable awkwardness, here he was, trying his damnedest to bed – even if for a limited time – the one person on the ship he should be staying the farthest from. The effort, on top of his other duties and Khan’s erratic behaviour, was taking its toll.

McCoy found him stomping through the corridor one evening. Jim’s mood had been so low, he’d considered finding Spock and starting an argument just for the hell of it. McCoy took one look at him and ordered him to eat some proper food and stay out of everyone’s way until he could behave in polite company. Bones knew him better than anyone, and although Jim often did the opposite of what McCoy advised, in this instance it seemed the most prudent course of action. He went to his quarters.

Jim struggled to relax, tossing and turning in his bunk. Disjointed images flashed behind his eyes whenever he closed them – the emptiness of open space as he hurtled through it towards the _Vengeance_ ; Bones’ relieved face when he opened his eyes, now safely back on Earth; seventy-two weapons – people – who would not be forgotten, very deliberately placed in harm’s way…

Then, it clicked. Khan, for all his superior intelligence and engineering, was still _human_. His augmentation might have given him unparalleled abilities, but he wasn’t a robot. Or a Vulcan. There was a limit to his control. And he kept control only when it suited him. Jim had forgotten this, especially now, when Khan and the _Enterprise_ crew were compelled to work together. But Khan had been and still was, a dangerous man. Khan had shown Starfleet just how passionate he could be when threatened, but what about now? He had no outlet for strong emotions. And although Khan must know his crew was safe, he must still worry over every one he cared about. And caring meant being vulnerable. 

If Khan became frustrated enough, he might do something reckless, and Jim had no doubts that Khan could overpower the guards in the brig. He might disappear. It was a big ship; the crew might not locate him until he’d found a way off, and Jim would once again be in the shit with Starfleet Command. Probably worse than before; John Harrison was still a criminal in the eyes of most Federation citizens. In this pursuit, Jim was playing a dangerous game. 

Just the kind he liked.

~

It was getting late when Jim left his cabin and strode to the turbolift. Moments later, the doors opened on a long, featureless corridor which led to the brig. 

Khan’s cell was more like a crewman’s quarters now, not just a brightly lit featureless room designed to leave the occupant feeling like a goldfish in a bowl. His compartment was larger, with a private toilet and sonic shower area, and space to store clothing, personal items, along with a more comfortable cot. 

It was still a goldfish bowl, though; everywhere in the cell could be seen if the guards deemed it necessary. However, Khan had been extraordinarily compliant since they’d left Earth. As a result, the guards had grown used to his presence as well as his frequent forays to other parts of the ship. Jim was counting on that familiarity.

“Need to borrow him,” Jim said nonchalantly, cocking his head at the glass behind which Khan sat reading. Despite Jim’s casual attitude, his hands were clammy and he surreptitiously wiped them on his shirt, a motion that went unnoticed by the guard as she pressed the necessary sequence of numbers on the console in front of her in order to unlock the cell. 

Khan noticed it though. Jim saw his eyes flick to the movement. 

Jim cleared his throat. “Probably be in Medbay all night. Tests of some kind.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard acknowledged. 

When the heavy door in the wall opened, Khan set down his PADD, stood up and walked out of the cell. Jim turned and left the brig, not looking to see if Khan was following, but he could hear the other man's footsteps a pace behind. The sound made the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck stand on end just as it had the first time Khan had walked the corridors of the _Enterprise_ , hands encased in manacles and murderous fire behind his eyes.

More recently, Jim had seen a different fire in those eyes. And clearly Khan had sensed the same in his own, evidently even before Jim had recognised it. Yes, the man was dangerous. Which probably made Jim’s current mission even more foolhardy. But he wouldn’t be put off any longer. 

“We’re not going to Medbay, are we?” Khan asked matter-of-factly.

“Shut up.” Jim hated that the man always seemed to know what he was thinking. 

They reached the turbolift and entered. Jim uttered a terse command then remained silent for the journey upwards. Bodies did the talking, though: arms pressed together gently, fingers touching, briefly tangling. Jim felt the temperature rise along with the lift. Clearly, Khan had decided not to be caustic on this occasion.

He took a steadying breath as the lift doors opened to a blessedly empty corridor. Stepping out, Jim walked down the corridor, eyes focussed on nothing. 

He stopped at his quarters, Khan standing silent as a shadow behind him, and keyed a number into the panel by the door. He’d change the code tomorrow – he was pretty sure Khan had seen it and committed it to memory. The door opened and he walked in. He didn’t activate the lights; the starlight coming from the porthole provided enough for his purposes. He heard the door hiss shut behind him and the code being re-entered, locking it.

It seemed a desperately long time, but was probably no more than ten seconds, before Jim felt firm hands on his shoulders. They rested there, barely moving, exerting the slightest pressure, just enough to ratchet Jim’s pulse up another notch even in this calm silent moment.

Khan’s hands ran down Jim’s arms, strong, unstoppable. When they reached Jim’s wrists, they held fast and he felt warm breath, then lips and a tongue brush against his neck just above the collar of his uniform. This severely tested Jim’s ability to stand still, let alone think coherently. So he decided not to think. 

Jim twisted in the embrace, pulling his hands free and turning to face Khan. They were matched in height, which was good, but caused some confusion about who should put whose arms around which part of whose body. Jim almost laughed at the absurdity of their several false starts to kiss until finally, he grabbed Khan’s face and firmly planted his lips against Khan’s mouth. 

For such an abrupt start to a kiss, it became astonishingly tender. Jim had been expecting a rough start to a perhaps rougher coupling. Which would have been fine, but this was…lovely. Jim let his fingers stray into Khan’s hair, and Khan responded by gently sliding his tongue into Jim’s mouth.

Jim sighed around it; this was one of his favourite things. For someone who spent most of his day talking back, it was relatively easy to shut him up this way. But nothing, especially sex, would keep Jim quiet for too long. His sigh turned into a moan, and he broke the kiss to breathe into Khan’s mouth, “God, I want you.” Inexplicable, but there it was.

Khan leant in again and caught Jim’s lower lip with his teeth, keeping his eyes open, watching Jim’s face. Jim exhaled again, this time through his nose and returned the kiss, throwing everything he had into it, his eyes open a slit to see Khan’s reaction. This time it was Khan who sighed, eyes closing, and Jim felt the other man’s body melt against his. And they _would_ be melting soon at the rate they were going; it already felt as if the temperature in the room had increased faster than it had in the turbolift.

Jim had just the answer for that. Removing his hands from Khan’s hair, he reached back and seized a handful of his own shirt, grabbing both the tunic and undershirt and yanking them up and over his head. The air felt good on his overheated skin. He looked at Khan and was pleased to see the other man's eyes were trained on his chest. A moment later Khan reached out a hand and stroked Jim’s left arm from shoulder to wrist, raising gooseflesh. How could such simple gestures elicit such responses? Jim's usual sexual encounters were frequently rushed, at least at their start, and often alcohol-fuelled. Now, he found that wanted to take more time; time he didn’t have. Khan’s absence in the brig would eventually be noted by someone other than the guards.

He let Khan just touch him for a while, closing his eyes and enjoying the attention. He wondered how long it had been since Khan had shared himself with another person. Fingertips ran up and down both arms now, hands rubbed Jim’s shoulders, stroked his back. Jim felt harder than he’d ever been in his life and all he’d done was share a few kisses and caresses. He’d be a dead man by the final act, if this prelude were anything to go by.

Mercifully – or maybe not – Khan stopped his tactile tour of Jim’s upper body and moved closer to kiss him some more. Jim decided he would do this forever if he could. The man could kiss, seemed to know exactly what Jim liked, knew how to move lips and tongue to reach all the sensitive spots in Jim’s mouth, and made all the right noises to excite Jim even more.

Unable to wait any longer, Jim none-too-gently pushed Khan back against the locked door. 

“Well, Captain…” Khan surprised him by saying as his back banged against the door. “It seems you have me.” 

Given that Khan could, if he wanted to, throw him halfway down one of the _Enterprise_ ’s corridors, Jim considered it a small victory that Khan was either too aroused to care or was allowing Jim to do it. Jim hoped for the former but had a feeling it was the latter. He was cheered by the comment, even if Khan still made his rank sound like an insult. Time to show the other man who was boss. 

Jim sank to his knees. 

Khan’s gaze followed Jim’s motion, eyes widening and a smirk tugging at his mouth. 

Jim wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. Or better yet, replace it with something else. He reached up and undid the fastenings to Khan’s trousers. It’d been a while since he’d done this, but he was certain he was pretty good at it, even if Khan had boasted he was _better_ at everything. Jim rather hoped he’d find out.

~

Sometime later, his jaw sore and the taste of semen burning the back of his throat, Jim sat back on his heels and looked upwards. His eyes watered slightly from the grip of Khan’s hands in his hair, but he was delighted to see that the smirk on Khan’s face had been replaced with a much more appealing expression: his eyes were half-open, and he smiled slightly as he gasped for air. He looked…blissful, a sentiment Jim hadn't thought the man capable of expressing, let alone feeling. 

All of Khan’s actions since he’d been revived had been directed by one purpose, driven by one single-minded goal. Since joining the _Enterprise_ on her mission, he’d been business-like throughout. Even at moments when Jim would see him "relaxing" in his accommodation, he still looked formal, stiff and stern. Until now, Jim hadn't imagined a moment when the man let himself just…be.

Yet here he was smiling, _really_ smiling, in pleasure, his back no longer ram-rod straight, but bowed slightly forward, his hands caressing Jim’s scalp, more gently now as his breathing returned to normal. Jim smiled at Khan’s expression. He wanted the man to continue to wear it, if even only for the next few hours. 

Presently, Khan reached for his trousers which were bunched up half-way down his thighs… _lovely thighs_ , Jim thought, distracted by the movement. For a moment, Jim thought he was pulling them back up, but Khan shoved them further down his legs instead. He pulled off his boots and stepped out of the trousers, then stood up and tugged off his shirt. 

Jim watched this all without moving from where he knelt on the floor. It had taken seconds for Khan to undress, completely and elegantly. Jim raised himself up from the floor and watched as Khan strode to Jim’s bed and reclined on it. Jim didn’t even try to hide the fact he was staring and Khan didn’t seem to mind being stared at. He offered Jim a slow smile. It was the kind of smile that reminded Jim of a shark eyeing its prey, and he knew exactly which one he was in that equation.

Jim tripped while trying to pull off his boots and walk at the same time. Khan offered no help, just lay on the bed, looking perfectly at home, and watched as Jim fumbled his way out of the remainder of his clothing. 

It didn't help that he was supremely aroused; he’d nearly hurt himself shedding his trousers. Embarrassed only slightly at his own ineptitude at undressing himself, once naked Jim thought nothing more of it, near-crippling excitement overriding every other emotion. 

Khan had watched Jim undress, made no comment about his clumsiness, and looked him up-and-down once or twice, but for the most part he had kept his attention firmly fixed on Jim’s face. It was incredibly disconcerting, as was Khan’s smile, but Jim chose to take it as a good sign. 

He was still smiling when Jim climbed on top of him.

~

Something buzzed – the door? 

No, must have imagined it. Unseeing, Jim thought he felt movement in the bed beside him. That wasn’t too unusual; he often didn’t wake up alone. But as the sleepy fog slowly cleared from his head, Jim recalled he wasn’t on Earth anymore, he was on the _Enterprise_ , and he’d vowed he wouldn’t fraternize with its crew. 

A dream then… 

Without opening his eyes, which would spoil this hazy half-asleep state, Jim inhaled. The bedclothes smelled like sweat and sex, mirroring the taste in his mouth. He licked his lips. A _good_ dream… 

_Sinking into a hard body with strong arms holding him so tight he could feel another heartbeat against his chest; a low voice murmuring encouragement in his ear – until at the end – when the words became just gasps; feverish kisses and bruising fingers branding his flesh. And forever, it seemed, Jim teetered on that beautiful knife-edge until finally letting go –_

“Captain, are you in there?” 

Jim was thrown out of his carnal reverie by a vaguely familiar female voice. 

It was his yeoman – what was her name? Jane? Janet? Jim breathed in deeply again and stretched his arms over his head. Whatever her name was, Jim was pretty sure it wasn’t her he’d been dreaming about. 

“Kirk,” a new voice said beside him.

Jim started and turned his head sharply at the sound of his name. Khan lay next to him, arms folded across his naked chest. 

It hadn’t been a dream, then, oh not at all. It had been very…real. 

Realising their bodies were still pressed together in the bunk, Jim shifted over to the very edge and stared at the man beside him, heart hammering and hardly believing his eyes. How the hell had _this_ happened? 

Khan stared impassively back at him, his face void of any expression.

Jim’s could feel his pulse racing. Keeping his eyes fixed on Khan, Jim replayed the sequence of events in his head again. And in typical Jim Kirk style, his expression transformed from shock to sultry in a nanosecond. If the memories of last night were anything to go on, bringing Khan here might have not been one of his most _rational_ ideas, but it had undoubtedly been one of his _better_ ones. 

There were several courses of action Jim could take now, the wisest of which was probably not to give Khan his patented lopsided smile and nestle back under the covers. But that’s exactly what he did. 

Jim’s skin tingled as he pressed up against the warm body beside him. He let his eyes slide partly closed.

Black hair spilling into his face, Khan raised himself onto an elbow and blinked down at Jim, looking slightly puzzled. It was almost endearing; Jim didn’t think he’d seen the man blink so many times since first meeting him. He felt his chest tighten.

Then Jess-Janine-Whoever called through the door. “Captain, I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Barely hearing what she said, Jim muttered, “Yeah…thanks…leave it there.” He refused to let her shatter his contented mood. He gestured absently in the direction of the door, then reached up to touch Khan’s wayward hair. Khan indulged him for several moments before catching and holding Jim’s hand.

Jim craned his neck, lips barely brushing against Khan’s, intent on starting something even if, as he suspected, he wasn’t going to get a chance to finish. 

Indeed, it seemed his yeoman wasn’t going to take _no_ for an answer. “Captain, I was told to personally hand this to you and ensure you ate it.”

Jim head fell back against the pillow. “You what?” he asked, a little incredulous and a lot irritated. Khan squeezed Jim’s hand quite hard and Jim glared at him. 

“Doctor McCoy says you’re not eating or sleeping properly.” Ah, no wonder her message sounded rehearsed.

“I _was_ sleeping, yeoman!” And he had been; the chronometer next to the bed read 07:03. He’d had his first, if somewhat abbreviated, good night’s sleep in weeks. 

Yeoman Whoever continued, “Captain, Doctor McCoy also said, and I quote: ‘If he doesn't eat this, I’ll personally come down there, hypo his ass, and feed him intravenously.’”

Khan’s derisive snort puffed warm breath into Jim’s face.

“And Captain,” his yeoman continued. “You know Doctor McCoy can override the security code on any of the crew’s doors. Please, just open the door, eat your breakfast and don’t get us both in trouble.”

Dammit, she was right, McCoy wouldn’t think twice about barging in and making sure Jim followed his orders. “Okay…er…just a minute, yeoman…” Exasperated, Jim rolled his eyes and sighed again.

Khan tilted his head slightly, which Jim interpreted as a shrug. He let go of Jim’s hand and rose from the bed. Jim watched as he retrieved his clothes and strode into the small bathroom adjacent to the sleeping area.

Jim cursed under his breath. He was tired, his muscles were a bit sore, and he really needed a shower. All good things in his book, much preferable to having to get out of bed and answer the door. He got up and found his trousers, threw them on, and pulled his black uniform undershirt over his head. Hoping Khan would have the sense to remain silent, he unlocked and opened the door, stepped out into the corridor, made sure it shut behind him, locked it, and then accepted the tray. 

Jim’s yeoman looked ridiculously awake, blue eyes bright and alert. She was young, attractive, blonde hair done up in an intricate fashion and piled atop her head. Jim spared a thought to wonder how long it must take her to make it look like that. Did she get up extra early? He couldn’t imagine a routine that would involve that much effort in the mornings. All Jim wanted to do _this_ morning was crawl back into bed and make love and then listen to Khan’s breathing as he fell asleep next to him. Now that he’d decided to go back on his word about remaining celibate during this mission, he was keen to continue going back on it.

 _Easy Jim. Eat._ Jim brought his musings back to the present.

Having used up a fair amount of energy in the past few hours, Jim realised he _was_ hungry, and dived into his meal while standing in the doorway. No sense taking chances. Any _more_ chances, that is.

“Slow down,” the young yeoman advised, but Jim, both ravenous and trying to move her along as fast as possible, ignored her. He gulped down the last of whatever was in his mug -- coffee, was it? He’d have to talk to Scotty about the replicators again. He passed the tray back within two minutes. 

“I suppose that counts as eating,” the yeoman grumbled. Jim flashed her his best smile, and she blushed a little and stammered, “I-I’ll tell Doctor McCoy you did what he asked.”

“Thank you, yeoman,” Jim said, keeping a broad smile plastered on his face until the turbolift doors closed behind her.

As soon as she’d disappeared, Jim unlocked the door and it opened. As it whooshed closed behind him Khan emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. Jim felt his skin prickle. He ignored the sensation and instead rummaged around for his uniform tunic. 

“Well, we can’t do that again in _here_ ,” he muttered as he pulled the tunic over his head. He wrinkled his nose as it fell into place -- he’d have to come back and shower as soon as Khan was back where he belonged.

“Again?”

Damn. Maybe Khan wasn't considering a repeat of last night’s events. It was probably naïve to think he would. “Uh…no," Jim backpedalled hastily. "I mean – uh – this was great and all, and yeah, I did need to get you out of my system –” He was rambling. _Shut up, Jim._

“I _am_ in your system," Khan said in his oft-used patronising tone. “Did you think _this_ would remove me somehow?”

“Shit, that’s not what I meant.” Jim sighed and shook his head. He sat down on his bunk to pull on his boots, his back to Khan, but he could _feel_ the man’s uncanny eyes boring into him. When Khan said nothing, Jim continued as eloquently as before. “Well, no, I mean, yeah.” 

He stood and turned to face his...what? Friend, enemy, lover, prisoner, colleague? Considering their history, it was probably best not to turn his back on the man. Khan was studying his face curiously. “I know I have your blood to thank for…reviving me. And maybe that’s what’s been pushing me towards you…but…”

“Captain…” Khan punctuated the single word with an air of extreme disbelief and one hell of a sneer. Clearly he believed that even less than Jim did.

“Yeah, all right. I wanted you.”

Khan’s sneer turned into a smirk. “So you said,” he reminded Jim.

Jim ignored the observation. “And you wanted me too, you bastard. You made that pretty obvious before…this...” Jim waved his hand between them.

Khan stayed silent, meeting Jim’s gaze without responding. But after a moment, the neutrality of his expression faltered and he looked away. Jim took this as a victory. “I knew it!” He grinned. He hadn’t acquired his reputation without being perceptive enough to know when someone wanted him. He could usually see it a mile off, although he hadn’t been looking for it or expecting it from Khan, not at first anyway.

“Then you are tasked with finding somewhere we can do _this_ again.” Khan didn’t duplicate the gesture, just accentuated the word. 

Jim didn’t answer, just accessed the door and poked his head out. Clear, for the moment. He led the way as quickly as he could to the turbolift. Once again, he didn't acknowledge the man's presence a few paces behind him as they made their way back to the brig, but his skin tingled as if Khan's gaze on his back had physical weight. 

He didn’t dawdle after signing over Khan to the guards, only looked up once Khan was back in his cell to see his dark gaze levelled at him. _Do not fail in your task, Captain,_ the look said.

Jim tuned away, one corner of his mouth lifting. _Me? Fail?_ Clearly Khan still had a lot to learn about James T. Kirk.

The End


End file.
